A Single Slip
by skrewtkeeper
Summary: Minerva finally begins to love Albus Dumbledore, but does he share her feelings? What happens when you slip and fall without someone to catch you anyway? An MMAD fic
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: Ok, I have decided against my better judgement to post my fic that I came up with around early January, early Feburary of this year. Since I rather enjoyed writing it (and the sequel which is yet to come), I hope all of you will enjoy reading it, so without further ado, here is my fic! _

**A Single Slip**

_**Preface:--**_

_A single slip _

_threatened us both _

_When one of us tripped _

_we both fell _

_For being together _

_hand in hand _

_Isn't as easy as it looks_

_**Prologue:--**_

"_A single slip had made us both fall,"_ thought McGonagall miserably to herself. This was much more difficult than anything she had ever encountered in her entire life. Nothing made sense anymore and everything was spiraling into depths that she feared she would drown in. Turning back time was out of the question; what if she found her past self, and tried to prevent this from happening again? No, that wouldn't do. That would just mess everything up. Everything that she had worked tirelessly for. Everything that she ever wanted or needed. Everything she had longed for, would all be in vain as her life was now. How it had become this way was a mystery to an outsider. McGonagall wanted no one to know, so no one was told. No one knew about her sufferings, and that was the way it was meant to be. No one cared; not even the one she loved so dearly.

She pushed the dreaded thought out of her mind; the thought that was almost too much to bear; the thought that she had frequently tried to forget, but the thought that somehow had darkened her days. Everyday was one of grief that she tried to avoid. Avoiding the thing she longed for, to shun another heartbreak that was bound to occur once more. A horrible thing was between the two of them and McGonagall had no idea how to get through it. Nothing came to her mind as she had hoped; as it always had beforehand when she had wondered whether this thought of a relationship between her and him was insane. Yes, Minerva McGonagall was in love with Albus Dumbledore, and there was nothing she could do about it!


	2. Chapter One

_**Chapter One:--**_

McGonagall wandered to her favorite spot in all of Hogwarts. The spot she felt most at home, and the place she always wanted to linger near. She was sitting in her office, in her favorite armchair next to her cozy fire. She was sipping tea absentmindedly that night when she heard a slight knock at the door.

A trifle surprised, she jumped, nearly dropping her cup of sweet tea. Quickly regaining control of herself, she called, "Come in!" a bit harshly as she panted; trying to get her heart rate to steady.

The door opened slowly, as if there was something rather heavy pushed against the door. McGonagall stared at the door, wondering if she should open it herself, when a stout woman walked in with numerous patches on her Earth-worn hat.

"Oh good evening, Professor Sprout," said McGonagall kindly as the Professor walked in.

"Same to you," she replied.

"Well; what is it?" asked McGonagall expectantly.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this," she said, holding up a tightly wound roll of parchment.

"Oh?"

Professor Sprout held up both her hands. "I don't know what it's for; he only requested that I give it to you," she explained.

"Thank you," answered McGonagall appreciatively as she took the scroll. Professor Sprout turned on her heel, and left the room.

"_Now, what was that all about?"_ wondered McGonagall to herself. Her puzzlement was saved for the time being as she unwound the scroll and began to read:

Dear Professor McGonagall,

I would like you to come to my office for a spot of tea this Saturday evening at 10:00 sharp. Please do send my regards to Tuftsy.

Hoping you are well,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I enjoy chocolate frogs.

Professor McGonagall laughed to herself as she read his regards. Tuftsy was her tawny owl that she loved a great deal. _"Oh well, at least he listens to me,"_ she thought happily as she tried to remember if there was anything that needed to be done on a Saturday night. As far as she could see, there was nothing in particular, so she decided to go. She quickly wrote an 'okay' on the scroll and tied it to her owl.

"Take this to Dumbledore would you?" she asked Tuftsy. Tuftsy responded with an affectionate nip on her finger before departing out the window, and into the snowy night.

McGonagall was greatly confused. Not only had she been teaching here for twenty-some odd years, she had never been invited for tea by Dumbledore! She began to grow worried as horrible news went through her mind. What if was a death or something that called for her attention? _"Oh no; not another death!"_ she thought worriedly as she recalled when she had to explain to a first year student that his parents died. That was a painful thing to watch; an eleven-year-old who hardly knew that a war was commencing right outside the walls of the safety of the castle, and having to go through the pain and grief of loss that shouldn't be experienced at such a young age. Grief and pain were meant for an older age; not for someone so young, who hardly knew the pains of the deaths of loved ones.

Minerva shook her head quickly; trying to rid herself of the image of that poor crying boy who had lost both his parents in one night. It did no good to dwell on memories unless they were good ones, as Dumbledore had said.

Minerva smiled to herself as she recalled how much care Dumbledore had put into choosing the words to go in that quick invitation that he had sent. Only he knew about that owl of hers. She nearly laughed to herself as she thought of someone intercepting it, and trying to figure out who 'Tuftsy' was! It would be highly amusing for her to watch the person go through all of the students; looking for someone or something named 'Tuftsy'!

She snickered as she remembered the postscript. Only Dumbledore would think to put his password to his 'Sweet of the Week' as he called it! It was changed every week or so, and it always astounded McGonagall as to how in the world he was able to remember his password better than anyone else in the staff! McGonagall recalled when she had forgotten the password once, and had tried to get in.

It was either a few years ago, or twenty years ago, McGonagall couldn't remember exactly the date; it was snowing rather hard. She had gone up to his office to tell him something important, but not urgent.

She had finally reached the second floor landing, and yelled the password that she thought it was.

"Lemon Drop!" she called, her voice echoing in the oddly stilled air.

The Gargoyle did not move, but stayed shock-still, as if it were a Muggle decoration. Minerva looked quizzically at the statue before chorusing the never changeable password.

"Lemon Drop!" she called again. The Gargoyle still did not move. Being utterly bewildered, she stood there for a moment, thinking of what else could be the password.

"Sherbet Lemon?" she asked. The Gargoyle remained rigidly immobile, to McGonagall's near peaked frustration.

"Dang it!" she yelled at it, but it still did not move. She raised her heel to aim a good kick at it, when Dumbledore appeared from the corner of the corridor.

"Don't tell me you're going to break into my office!" chuckled Dumbledore, mocking fear.

"I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore," responded McGonagall sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. "I was just trying to tell you something important.."

"There's no need to be sorry," replied Dumbledore kindly. "Let's go in together so we can discuss it; the password is 'Licorice Wand' for now."

"Why did you change it to that?" McGonagall asked as the Gargoyle leapt aside; confounded that Dumbledore thought there was a reason to change the password.

"Oh, that's my 'Sweet of the Week'," he replied happily as they entered.

"Your 'Sweet of the Week'?" asked McGonagall incredulously, smiling.

"Yes; I've decided to find a new sweet every week; preferably chocolate; to try and to change the password to. So far, I haven't forgotten the password!" he exclaimed jubilantly.

McGonagall snickered audibly as the memory faded. _"Only Dumbledore would think of such things."_ she thought happily as her worries were eased by his invitation. If it were something urgent, he would have told her. Cheered by the thought, McGonagall turned in for the night, wondering what she was supposed to wear for a Dumbledore invited Tea Party.


End file.
